


My name is...

by Beautifully_You_and_me



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: ARE YOU PROUD OF ME STACIE, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Because I havent updated Tick Tock, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Its therapy and Junko is nice, Junko calls all her paitents sweetheart because I thought it was cute., Junko is nice, Komaru is dead, M/M, Medical Conditions, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mukuro is just there, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Stabbing, Stacie should be happy, Therapist Junko, Therapy, There might be more chapters with different visits from different characters, This is different then the Asylum story, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 12:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautifully_You_and_me/pseuds/Beautifully_You_and_me
Summary: "My name is Makoto Naegi ""And why are you here today Makoto?""Because I don't want to rememeber anymore"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruler_of__despair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruler_of__despair/gifts).



"Hello, what's your name?" That's how every visit started.  
The building was made of stone, Junko had her own small clinic in the middle of everything.  
When people came in, they didn't need an appointment, if someone was seeing her they could wait in the other room until she was ready to see them.  
When they were to come to her, Mukuro would lead them to the room.

She'd welcome them with a smile and ask them to sit down.  
She'd ask their name, and they would talk to her, however long they needed to.

Today was no different.

The door opened as she was on the phone, she held her ring finger up in a silencing motion as she finished speaking.  
When she hung up, she looked up and smiled.

Mukuro was there with a boy with brown hair, she closed the door behind her as she left him with Junko.

"Please sit down." She motioned to a chair on the other side of her desk.  
He did as he was told, and looked at her with a somber expression.

"What's your name?" She started off the same as always. After all, his name would be important if she wanted to help him.

"My name is Makoto Naegi." His reply was simple, carrying the same somber tone as his face held.

"And why are you here today Makoto?" Junko had moved so that her elbows were against the table, one hand holding her head up, the other messing with her hair.

"Because....I don't want to rememeber anymore." She closed her eyes with a soft hum, trying to think of what he could be reffering to. 

She had seen many things, assault, bullying, abuse, what was it that he had been through?

"You don't want to rememeber what sweetheart?" She had taken to calling her patients that, sometimes without even thinking. Her eyes opened when he didn't reply, he was looking at the ground.

She took out a notebook and sketched something down. "You can tell me, don't worry." He still seemed hesitant.

She gave him a reassuring smile, and he spoke up, "When I was younger, my little sister she..." He paused for a moment, grimacing at the memory. "She died. " He stated bluntly, making Junko bite her lip in thought. She had delt with death before, it was a while ago though.

She didn't even realize he was crying at first.

When she did, she stood from her chair and walked over to him, patting him on the back.

"It's gonna be alright. Just tell me whatever you need to, and I'm sure I can help you." That's what she always said, and she had never been wrong.  
Never in her life had she failed to help a patient.

Then, he told her the story. His story.  
His sister's story, but a story. His sister had been killed, and he blamed himself, not being able to get over it.

"Listen." He looked up at her. "It isn't your fault, it isn't anybody's but the guy who killed her's. So don't blame yourself, because she wouldn't want that, okay?" 

A bit more talking and he was alright, she assured him he could come back any time, and sent him on his way.

As she sat back at her desk, she looked at the notebook. There, on the page she had sketched on, was a picture.

A picture of a boy and his little sister.

**Author's Note:**

> How does therapy even work? *Shrug*


End file.
